“First, aim for its limbs! Don’t let it move, or we’ll all perish!”
With a furious roar, Helm charged forward.
“Bang! Bang-bang-bang…”
Gunshots echoed, yet half of the dozen or so armed individuals present were utterly petrified by the monstrous rat, standing frozen, their magazines empty, having forgotten to reload.
The meager firepower from the remaining five or six guns barely managed to dislodge the rats clinging to the giant rat’s limbs—more precisely, its two stout hind legs—preventing it from maintaining its semi-upright, rodent-like posture.
This reprieve, however, was fleeting, as the shattered rats began to transform, sprouting dense black fur and strips of flesh, reattaching themselves to the giant rat’s body, gradually merging into a cohesive whole.
Paradoxically, the barrage of bullets only seemed to accelerate this horrifying process.
Still, no one dared to cease fire, nor could they; the bullets, at the very least, slowed its relentless advance.
“Thud!”
With most of the rats on its limbs decimated, it could no longer sustain its stance, and the colossal body, formed from countless rodents, crashed to the ground.
“Now! Target its head and heart! Find that white rat!” Helm commanded once more.
Yet, the gunfire had significantly diminished. Merely preventing its movement had depleted most of their ammunition, leaving them to watch helplessly as the giant rat regenerated.
“Tsk.” After two clicks of an empty chamber, Helm holstered his gun, then reached to his back belt, drawing a black, wood-grained dagger bearing severe signs of wear.
Wiping it clean with his sleeve, he glanced back at the girl observing furtively from behind a nearby tree, offering a strained smile.
“Bate, do you think if I had been so brave back then, you wouldn’t have suffered so much?”
“Cease fire, everyone. Those who wish to leave may do so now. Those who stay, keep one bullet.” He addressed the officers, his voice ringing with no trace of fear.
“But I must warn you: this creature is exceptionally vengeful. You’ve fired upon it, and I cannot guarantee it won’t track your scent back to your homes.”
“If I fail in what comes next… this thing enjoys dissecting your head while you’re still alive to consume your brain matter. Consider this my final testament.”
The reason I initially forbade targeting its head and heart was that these peculiar plague-ridden creatures cannot be slain by conventional physical means.
They can only be infected by items possessing similar plague attributes, a method akin to fighting poison with poison.
Approaching such a creature without experience is exceedingly perilous, as records indicate the Ratmire White Rat (TL Note: A specific type of plague-ridden creature, known for its cunning and regenerative abilities.) hides within the heart or head of the aggregate.
It’s a fifty-fifty chance, and that’s assuming no other complications arise.
He estimated the survival rate wouldn’t exceed ten percent, yet there was no other choice; retreating now would only lead to more deaths.
“My sincerest apologies, sir,” Officer Franz, the first to step forward, said, his head bowed low.
“I should not have treated you with such disrespect earlier.”
“Enough of this chatter,” Helm declared, striding forward, a grim smile spreading across his face.
“If we waste any more time, this thing will have fully recovered… Everyone, fall back! You’re of no use here; physical attacks will only make this beast remember you more vividly!”
“I meant to say I wish to stay! I hope you can avenge Luke!” Franz cried out, his eyes bloodshot, his voice a mixture of fury and terror as he watched Helm’s retreating back.
Most of the officers nodded in agreement, none wishing to endanger their families.
One or two wavering individuals were ordered by Godfrey to go report the situation, with an additional task quietly given.
Godfrey himself stood at the very front of the police line, his eyes devoid of any fear.
By the time the two officers reached the tree where the girl had been hiding, they found her long gone, leaving behind only a snapped branch…
Clutching the dagger tightly, Helm slowly advanced, his gaze warily tracking the giant rat’s movements.
When it fell, it had flipped onto its back, its belly exposed to the sky.
Its limbs, mangled and twitching incessantly, were still regenerating at the broken points, rendering it incapable of basic movement.
Three-quarters of its body had fully fused, covered in black fur, while the remaining quarter still appeared as a patchwork of rats.
Something felt amiss; ordinarily, such a cunning creature would thrash in a death struggle upon sensing a mortal threat.
Yet, aside from its crimson eyes, which remained fixed on him, turning with his every move, it made no other significant gestures.
He was already so close—a mere three meters—a distance ample enough to plunge his dagger into its heart or head.
His past experiences, however, cautioned him against a hasty strike.
He recalled a line from the archives concerning the Ratmire White Rat: ‘If it allows you to approach while still alive, either you are its master, or it is utterly confident in its ability to destroy you.’
“Look out!”
That voice!
Whoosh!
A gust of wind swept past. The instant he heard the warning, Helm instinctively arched his back, simultaneously bracing himself with one hand and rolling sideways to distance himself.
A black tail, thick as an arm, whizzed past, narrowly missing his face.
There was no time to search for the girl’s location in the direction of the voice.
The colossal body nearby began to writhe and struggle wildly, its limbs regenerating at ten times their previous speed.
It had deliberately slowed its regeneration earlier, waiting for its prey to deliver itself.
“Just how intelligent is this beast!?”
Quickly assessing his next move, Helm dropped to one knee, pushing off with his back foot, and sprinted forward at top speed before the creature could fully recover, reversing his grip on the dagger as he ran.
It was both a trap and an opportunity.
Almost the instant the giant rat completed its recovery and flipped over, he plunged the wood-grained dagger with brute force into its heart.
“Die!” he roared, gritting his teeth.
His left hand pressed forcefully against the hilt, pushing it deeper, as a jet of black, foul blood erupted, some even splattering into his mouth.
The giant rat fared no better; from the wound, a petrifying corruption spread outwards, its black fur transforming into countless fine, wooden rootlets that crumbled into dust and dissipated.
The incessant squealing of countless rats filled his ears, as its tail coiled around his arm, attempting to dislodge the dagger.
Ignoring the urge to spit out the foul blood, he exerted himself with a frenzied intensity.
Veins bulged on his arms and forehead, and finally, his two hands, along with the rat’s tail, disappeared into the beast’s chest.
“Bang!”
The two-meter-tall behemoth toppled, pinning half his body beneath it, and the squealing ceased at that very moment.
“Hah…”
He had barely exhaled a breath when, in the next instant, a searing pain erupted in his left shoulder.
Looking up, he saw two long fangs piercing through his shoulder blade.
His fifty-fifty gamble had failed; the true core wasn’t hidden in the heart!
“Bang-bang!”
“Bang-bang-bang!”
The officers fired their last bullets, their efforts futile and in vain, the attacks only inciting more rage from the giant rat.
“Aaaargh…!”
The fangs tore at his wound, the excruciating pain nearly causing him to lose consciousness.
Then, the fangs withdrew, and its forelimbs clamped down tightly on the hand still gripping the dagger.
A foul, 腥风 (TL Note: A strong, bloody stench, often associated with demonic or monstrous entities.) wafted above his head, blocking out the light.
The officers, rushing from a distance, were too late.
His pupils constricted violently; just before death claimed him, a deeply buried memory resurfaced from the depths of his mind.
It was a night when the mist had fully descended.
Two young men, barely adults and separated by three or four years, hadn’t fallen into slumber.
With their bedroom door securely locked, they had climbed out of a second-story window, scaling down a drainpipe.
Fortune favored them; the elder brother, bringing up the rear, slipped halfway down, yet the soft thud of his fall didn’t rouse their parents.
The younger brother, terrified, had cowered behind a wall, convinced they were doomed.
Venturing into the mist during the ‘Long Night’ was a grave violation of religious doctrine, punishable by severe consequences if discovered.
But the elder brother shone a flashlight on his face, taunting him for not being a man, and it took over ten minutes of relentless goading before he finally mustered his courage.
The two decided to venture deep into the forest, near the enigmatic Solis Abbey, where it was rumored that normal life and routines persisted even during the ‘Long Night.’
The elder brother had dubbed this expedition his younger sibling’s coming-of-age ceremony.
This was their first venture into such danger, and both harbored a pervasive sense of fear and unease, which intensified exponentially once they reached a clearing deep within the forest.
Innumerable creatures with crimson eyes appeared all around them, densely packed, seemingly saturating every corner of the dark night.
In their panicked flight, they became separated and lost.
By the time he, utterly exhausted, finally found his younger brother, the boy was gravely wounded and on the verge of death.
Beside his brother stood a black-robed nun, holding a torch aloft, her face devoid of expression, her pupils gleaming with a deep, dark gold in the flickering torchlight…
“Thwack.”
A snapped branch struck the rat, falling beside its head, and the grotesque maw did not bite down.
Turning his head, he finally spotted the girl’s location: behind a thicket of bushes a dozen meters away, she was vigorously waving her arms and shouting towards him.
“Here! You bastard, don’t forget who exposed your ridiculous charade and brought you to this state!”